


Why Do You Talk So Loud?

by TheForgottenDreams



Series: I Said 'I Love You' [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music, Bands, Grantaire is in a band, Interrogation, M/M, Multi, Music AU, Musicians, Phone Calls & Telephones, party plans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 21:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6301021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheForgottenDreams/pseuds/TheForgottenDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“When do you intend to introduce us to the potential pop star you’ve been talking to?”  Bahorel’s voice boomed through his apartment. Damn, he thought he’d done a good job of hiding that. </p><p>“I don’t know who you mean.” Grantaire called back, pleading ignorance was his favourite tactic for getting out of things. That or straight up lying and he wasn’t above resorting to it. </p><p>“Yes you do.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Do You Talk So Loud?

“When do you intend to introduce us to the potential pop star you’ve been talking to?” Bahorel’s voice boomed through his apartment. Damn, he thought he’d done a good job of hiding that. 

“I don’t know who you mean.” Grantaire called back, pleading ignorance was his favourite tactic for getting out of things. That or straight up lying and he wasn’t above resorting to it. 

“Yes you do.” So Bahorel had brought Joly with him. Which meant Bossuet couldn’t be far behind. He could hear several footsteps walking towards where he was in the living room, heard them enter and chose their seats. Sounded like the whole gang

“I’m trying to write, leave me alone.” Grantaire told them, and okay, usually that excuse worked because if he was writing he was making them songs to record for their album.

And no, he hadn’t been writing, but they didn’t need to know that. He’d actually been binge watching Enjolras’ YouTube channel, since he insisted on posting videos of his speeches as well as his covers and original songs. Damn did Enjolras have a great voice, whether singing or speaking he was eloquent and elegant, Grantaire could feel himself getting addicted, especially when he was mid rant, voice loud, caught in passion, too enthralled with his ideas to notice grammatical mistakes, but it flowed and could be followed easily. Beautiful. 

But his friends didn’t need to know he was obsessing over a guy he’d met a few weeks prior and so his laptop was hidden in a draw, music on the radio turned up, head on the stack of papers strewn about his desk artfully. Several screwed up balls of nothing were scattered around, his fingers were stained with ink and the annoying auto tune of whoever was singing had started grating on his nerves.

“Well, we’re gate-crashing.” The higher pitched voice of his manager chirped as she put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, he sat up and looked at her. He loved Cosette but she was sometime too beautiful to look at with her face like a tourist attraction, hair like golden sand, eyes as blue as the ocean. Now was one of these times. 

“I need to write.” He told her, “Aren’t you always telling me I need to?” 

“Yeah, okay, whatever, we need to talk about Enjolras.” Cosette wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, he could hear the other chatting amongst themselves – Bahorel doing the weird insulting but flirting thing he and Feuilly did every time they were forced to be together, Joly and Bossuet sat stroking Grantaire’s cat, Satan, named for her personality and scarred face. 

“Who’s that?” he blinked at her.

“Nice try, but it’s not going to work.” She put her hands on her hips, eyebrows raised, this was business, “I saw you talking at the festival weeks ago, then your phone flashed his name last week when you went to get coffee so you’ve been texting and all the mysterious phone calls, when you passed out on Bahorel’s couch you mentioned him in your sleep. Which, creepy but I love you anyway. Plus, you refused to make your own email so your YouTube subscription comes through mine, so I know someone has been binge watching the man in question.” 

“Damn.” He growled under his breath, to which she laughed. 

“I know; I should have been a spy.” She twirled a lock of hair around one of her slender fingers, a smile playing on her lips. The colour contrasting the deep purple of her leather jacket. 

“Your talents are wasted on being a manager.” He deadpanned. 

“Ahem.” Her face transformed from sweet to sassy so quickly it was simply put, scary. Cosette was the type of girl who knew how to use her looks and her brain to get what she wanted, the kind that you never knew if she was about to kiss you or kill you, the kind you never wanted to make angry. No wonder Marius was so hopelessly in love with and completely terrified of her.

“On being a damn good manager.” He corrected.

“Better.” She replied, smiling, holding out her hand for him to take. “Come on, take a break so we can interrogate you.” 

“And if I don’t comply?”

“Why do you think I brought Bahorel with me?” She fluttered her eyelashes, pseudo-innocence on her face, she held her hand out to him.

“You’re a cruel woman ‘Sette.” Voice full of sceptic wonder. He took her hand and she hauled him up onto his feet.

“Thank you.” She laughed, kissing his cheek before dragging him over to the others. 

In the background Bahorel started cheering as Bossuet laughed and Joly just beamed. Grantaire didn’t open up, unless drunk, which happened more than it should but recently he’d not gotten to that level of wasted for exactly this reason. He should have known his friends would make him open up, especially if they got Cosette involved. 

“Okay so from the top, explain everything.” Bossuet was the one to speak, eyes gleaming and leg giggling like an excitable child, beside him Joly mirrored him and the others had equal displays of anticipation. There was no getting out of this one.

-

“I’m having a party on Friday.” 

“Oh yeah.” Enjolras’ voice was distant, distorted through the telephone line, but still able to make Grantaire shiver. Though he didn’t sound interested. Grantaire smirked, he loved a challenge and Enjolras had turned out to be his biggest one yet.

“Yeah and you’re invited.” Grantaire told him, marvelling at the way the sunset changed the colour of his ceiling, his body sprawled on his made (for once) bed and hair splayed across his pillow. His books, guitars, empty bottles and painting supplies were strewn around the room and his floordrobe was ever growing, his designated clothes cupboard almost bare. He really needed to tidy up and really needed to keep Joly out of his room so he didn’t have a breakdown from all the bacteria that must be swarming the place. 

“I am?” he sounded surprised which made Grantaire frown, surely with Enjolras’ face he must get invited all kinds of places? 

“Of course, we’re friends aren’t we?” Grantaire bit is bottom lip. They’d never really said what they were, having met a few weeks ago, but speaking most days and meeting up to argue in person. Grantaire had loved every minute of it. 

“I should hope so, I don’t give the names of my various social media accounts to just anyone.” 

“I bet that’s what you say to all the boys.” Grantaire laughed, Enjolras’ accompanied him as his apprehension unfurled. So was the effect Enjolras had on him. 

“Damn it, who told you?” He joked back. 

“Just a guess, honest.” Grantaire grinned.

“What your party in celebration of?”

“Well, I was supposed to throw it and invite you under the guise of it being a party, and it is a party, but my friends wanted to meet, quote, the blond bombshell who’s also going to be a rival in the future when his career really takes off because damn, Grantaire, he can sing, unquote, I’ve been talking to.” Grantaire confessed, he loved his friends he really did, but their nosy tendencies made his skin crawl. 

“I’m flattered.” Enjolras replied, Grantaire was sure he could hear the smile in his voice. “If they’re anything like my friends there’ll be an onslaught of questions, right?”

“Right.” 

“Any tips on how to deal with it?”

“Don’t lie and just be yourself.” Grantaire said, “Bring some of your friends too, so then they have more people to fuss over and they won’t spend the night physically attached to just you.”

“Okay, they’ll be happy, they’re always complaining I don’t invite them to enough ‘celebrity parties’.” Enjolras huffed a laugh. “And they’re all big fans of your work, they’ll want to meet you and the same advice applies.” 

“What? Your friends are fans of the few EPs we have?” Grantaire snorted. 

“And half an album.” Enjolras reminded him, “Whereas I have half an EP, like one song for an album and a YouTube channel of covers.”

“That is true, you’ll get there.” Grantaire nodded and immediately felt stupid, Enjolras couldn’t see it.

“Not if I can’t sing my own songs.” Enjolras grumbled then sighed, “No, that isn’t fair to Jehan – he’s my newest lyricist and he actually seems to get me unlike the others, I’ve liked all the things he’s written so far and I haven’t made him cry yet. Plus, he gets on well with Courf’ and ‘Ferre.”

“PR and manager?” Grantaire quirked an eyebrow. “Then Éponine is your booking agent?”

“Yeah.” Enjolras replied, Grantaire imagined the fond smile that would curl onto Enjolras’ lips, the affection in his eyes and the relaxation that flooded him when he talked of his friends. “Cosette is your manager, Bahorel, Joly and Bossuet are you band mates, Feuilly is your PR.”

“Yup, then Musichetta will be coming, she’s a music producer, and quite fond of us. Oh, and Marius, our agent, but we don’t see him much since he has other successful acts and Cosette does most of his work for him.” Grantaire told him, “If you want to win Musichetta over – and I suggest you do because she’s the only decent producer around and she’s free if you want to record on Tuesdays - don’t use any music puns, she gets them all the time and the last guy who said one got beat up and I know that for a fact because he was Bossuet.” 

“And Bossuet is in a relationship with Joly?” only Enjolras would say ‘in a relationship with’ he laughed. 

“Yeah and so is ‘Chetta. The first time they met, Bossuet made the music pun and she whirled around so quickly and got him with a left hook right in the nose. Solid punch. His nose broke and it was Joly who set it properly because he’s our go to medic in the group, he made Bossuet lie down and Musichetta started apologising so much and Bossuet was reassuring her as was Joly because that sort of stuff happens all the time. Then she made a few puns about blood in revenge, next thing me and Bahorel knew it was a pun battle and I guess they just fell in love, there was lots of blood, it was romantic. Ask them and they’ll tell you more details.” Grantaire smiled fondly. 

“Sounds like a whirlwind.” Enjolras laughed. 

“They’re surprisingly the most stable people I know.” Grantaire sniggered. “Anyway, how have you been?”

“Good, busy working with Jehan and doing interviews from the festival, what about you?”

“I’ve been writing more lately and we’re developing the song I made up at the festival.” 

“That’s great news, ‘Taire. I watched that performance a lot actually, it’s an awesome song.” Enjolras enthused. “Will you play it for me, once it’s all finished.” 

“Of course.” Grantaire told him.

“I’ll look forward to it and the party and meeting your friends, of course.” 

“I’ll see you Friday then.” Grantaire bit his lip to try to stop the ridiculous smile from spreading across his face. 

“See you Friday.” 

The line went dead and he picked up his laptop, abandoning his phone as he pulled up the video he’d been watching - Enjolras preaching about rights for everyone - and if Grantaire suddenly got the urge to write as he watched the red lips shape the word of his speech, surely it was a coincidence.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Talk by The 1975 - it's also the song Grantaire writes, because it's so Enjolras and one of my biggest headcanons is an Enjolras that gets so passionate and into his speeches, he ends up forgetting to use proper grammar but his words are so moving and inspirational it really doesn't take away from his speech. (though he gets Jehan and Combeferre to check it's right before he starts speaking)
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading.  
> You can find me on Tumblr at beelzebertha.tumblr.com


End file.
